I Became My Elf King Character In A Game-Like World
Chapter 81: The Price of False Divinity

Chapter 81: The Price of False Divinity

These Spirit of the Grove... their beauty masked a truly terrifying efficiency and scary presence.

The battle, if it could even be called that, was over almost before it began. Trapped by the Giant Golems’ unyielding taunt, the Mercenary Group were helplessly exposed to the Spirits’ drifting clouds of poison.

Caught between unstoppable force and insidious decay, they were annihilated with brutal speed.

Some met their end as unrecognizable pulp beneath the Golems’ stony feet; others simply melted away, consumed by the Spirits’ venom.

Within minutes, the forest floor was cleared. Fifty-plus hardened mercenaries, knights and mages both, were gone, returned to dust, or perhaps to the gods they believed in.

Only one remained upright, barely. Garrick, the Tenth Circle Dragon Slayer, swayed precariously in the center of the carnage.

The poison worked its way through him too; his skin held a deathly green pallor, sweat beaded on his pale forehead.

Yet, his powerful Guardian Knight physique and sheer will kept him on his feet, a lone, defiant figure against impossible odds.

But defiance was useless now. Ten silent Golems formed an unbreakable ring around him. Overhead, the delicate, winged Spirits drifted patiently, their mission nearly complete.

Garrick looked around, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The last vestiges of hope drained from him, replaced by the cold certainty of death. A Dragon Slayer... reduced to this? Cornered and poisoned in a nameless patch of woods?

His eyes darted between the impassive stone faces of the Golems. A final surge of desperate panic made him cry out, his voice hoarse. "Yo-You Elf... King! You can’t... do this! I am a Knight of the Temple! A Tenth Circle Guardian Knight! Killing me means making an enemy of the Temple himself!"

A faint, almost pitying smile touched Renjiro’s lips. He had faced down his own people’s goddess. The threats of a distant deity held no power over him. Garrick pleaded in vain.

Still seated calmly upon the glowing Unicorn, Renjiro looked down at the dying knight, struggling merely to stand under the Golems’ oppressive presence.

"You needn’t worry," Renjiro said softly, his voice carrying easily in the sudden quiet. "Such things are not easily forgotten."

The Golems hesitated, their stony gazes shifting towards their King. A wild spark of hope flared in Garrick’s desperate eyes. Was mercy possible?

But Renjiro’s next words crushed that hope utterly. His voice took on a harder edge. "When my people’s land fell, when darkness swept the land, the Unicorns were hunted. Many powers took part, seeking their purity for selfish gain. The Temple," Renjiro’s gaze locked onto Garrick, cold and sharp, "was among the worst. They bled the Unicorns, using their lifeblood to craft their ’holy water.’ Do you truly think I could ever forget such a crime?"

"No! Impossible!" Garrick choked out, aghast. "We follow the Light! Our sacred duty is to protect the weak, to fight evil! The Temple... it would never..."

Renjiro scoffed, a sound of pure contempt. "You wear the title ’Guardian Knight,’ sworn to eight noble virtues, yet you hunt innocent people of my race for measly gold and say you fight for ... what... WEAK. Tell me, Knight, how are you followers of ’Light’ any different from the necromancers in this way? In many ways," Renjiro added thoughtfully, "you are worse."

He gave a small, almost imperceptible gesture with his hand. Instantly, the Golems surged forward again, their heavy blows sending Garrick crashing to the ground.

More shimmering clouds of green light enveloped him, intensifying the poison’s agonizing work. Garrick’s skin seemed to crawl, turning a deeper, more hideous shade of green. Even his legendary endurance was failing.

Through Garrick’s tortured screams, Renjiro spoke again, his voice calm and clear, a declaration for the forest itself to hear.

"This continent bleeds under the tyranny of squabbling gods and their blind followers. Under the reign of the elves, the peoples of this land will finally know true freedom, freedom from divine chains."

Garrick’s eyes bulged, staring up at the Elf King with a mixture of terror and utter disbelief.

As a Golem’s immense foot loomed above him, blotting out the moon, he spat out one final, venomous curse: "Heretic! Evil! You’ll burn for this! The Temple’s holy fire will cleanse your corrupted soul!"

Renjiro watched impassively. To zealots like those in the Temple, anyone who didn’t kneel was a heretic. Power was the only language they truly understood.

"How dare you insult His Majesty!" one of the Golems roared, its voice shaking the leaves.

CRUNCH.

The Golem lifted its foot. The gruesome remains beneath it dissolved rapidly into a bubbling green slurry, the last trace of the Dragon Slayer vanishing from the world. Even his fine armor was now just mangled, corroding metal.

"Yuck. Nasty stuff," the Golem grumbled, shaking the slime from its foot. "Definitely keeping my distance from these little poison-fairies. Give me a good sturdy Archer any day."

The nearby Golems subtly edged away from their complaining comrade. Predictably, a cluster of iridescent Spirits zipped towards him, buzzing angrily and zapping his stone head with harmless but annoying sparks of magic.

"Did you just call us ’poison-fairies,’ you big lump of insensitive rock?!"

"Whoa! No! Never!" the Golem protested, rubbing his head with a comical air of innocence. "I meant... uh... those nasty Chimeras! Always spitting things! They’re disgusting! You lovely Spirits are... uh... the very soul of this beautiful forest!"

The Spirits gave synchronized, indignant huffs. "We heard you! And we’re telling the Chimeras exactly what you said! We might not care for those acid-spitters ourselves, but watching one melt your stony face could be quite entertaining!"

The Giant Golem looked utterly appalled at the thought.

With a faint smile at their familiar bickering, Renjiro turned Sylphie and led his victorious, if slightly dysfunctional, troops back towards the heart of his territory, leaving the desecrated clearing behind.

The battlefield was a grim testament to their power. Pools of viscous slime slowly soaked into the earth where living beings had stood moments before.

Scattered amongst them lay the mundane remnants of war, shattered shields, broken swords, and dented armor.

Renjiro hadn’t left empty-handed, however. He’d discreetly retrieved several well-crafted magic staffs and Garrick’s formidable greatsword. Such items always had value, either for coin or for future use.

The battlefield might have been soaked in the tree spirits’ essence, but it worked wonders on the forest itself.

Instead of causing harm, the essence acted like a powerful fertilizer, encouraging rapid growth. Renjiro felt sure that before long, the whole area would be transformed into a thick, vibrant Forest.